


Should We?

by whitherwaywill



Series: within the confines of canon [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Under the Bed, a question of marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitherwaywill/pseuds/whitherwaywill
Summary: Ron and Hermione are getting married, and Mrs. Weasley's wedding preparations are driving Ginny mad. Still, a stolen moment with Harry makes her wonder: is a wedding worth it?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: within the confines of canon [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739902
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Should We?

Ginny was looking forward to the day when her mother would have no more weddings to plan.

Bill and Fleur's wedding had been a nightmare, and George and Angelina's even worse. Percy and Audrey had only escaped by dint of Audrey's mother being exponentially more overbearing and insistent that her daughter's wedding was hers to plan.

Now, the entire Weasley family was embroiled in the vat of stress that was Hermione and Ron's wedding.

It was unquestionably an ordeal. Hermione was at her wit's end; Ginny was ninety-five percent sure it was because of Molly, not cold feet. Ron dashed about, mostly useless but utterly lovesick for Hermione.

The entire Weasley clan was staying at the Burrow in the days leading up to the wedding. Ginny could barely catch a breath without tripping over a brother, or a sister-in-law, or their various progeny.

And on top of that, Molly had Harry staying in another bedroom. Since they were so busy during the day, and sleeping in separate rooms at night, Ginny had barely seen him in a week. Merlin knew she loved the man, but she did wish he were less afraid of her mother. At this point, Ginny was fairly certain she'd resurrect Tom Riddle for the chance to have a single, uninterrupted moment with Harry.

Ginny felt an angry flush climbing up her neck. Merlin, but her mother was a hypocrite. Ginny had been tied down almost every second of the day, scrubbing the Burrow from top to bottom and weeding the gardens and helping her mum with the cake, and the banquet. She truly envied her brothers. Her mum was lovely, she could admit that; but she was far too attached to the sexist idea that her daughter was the only one who could assist her when it came to things such as cleaning, cooking, and wedding planning — things that Ginny had absolutely no interest in.

When she complained, Molly hit her with: "when I was your age…" It took every ounce of Ginny's self-control to not hit back with a "When you were my age, you and Dad were almost definitely banging outside of the confines of marriage, so _please_ let my boyfriend sleep in my bed in peace."

It was times like these that Ginny seriously considered running off to Romania to train dragons with Charlie. Charlie, who escaped the week of merciless preparation by saying he couldn't possibly get a Portkey any earlier than the day before Ron's nuptials.

Unfortunately, she couldn't conceivably abandon her life and run to Romania. It was already the day before the wedding; just two more days, and she'd be home free. Back to Grimmauld Place with Harry, where they could resume cleaning out the basement in their spare time, and Ginny could finally get a good night's sleep, safely nestled in his arms.

There was only one escape available to her.

"Hermione — Hermione, dear, I have your dress upstairs, let's go make sure the alterations were done properly. I don't know why you went to that boutique, but I'm certain that seamstress wouldn't know a proper seam if it was a Boggart in the closet —"

Ginny took advantage of Molly's momentary distraction and made her escape. As silently as she knew how — and she grew up in a house with six brothers — she slipped up the stairs and into her childhood bedroom. She shut the door behind her, locking it with a click.

It looked largely the same as when she lived in it. Still small, still covered in moving posters for various Quidditch teams, and still arranged in the exact way she liked it — if a little dustier than she remembered.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost see the day that Fred had created her sanctuary for her.

Molly had been particularly relentless that day; Ginny wasn't taking to the wandless cleaning charms that had been shoved down her throat as well as Molly hoped she might. The twins had picked that day to be particularly good big brothers. George had purposefully gotten into trouble, and while Molly was reaming him out, Ginny snuck up into her room.

Fred had been waiting for her.

_Let me teach you a trick_ , he had said.

Ginny remembered being so very apprehensive; even at five, she knew that the twins' tricks weren't always benevolent. Sometimes they meant giggling as Ron's favorite toy turned into a spider, and sometimes they meant hiding in her room as the twins were punished for almost duping Ron into an Unbreakable Vow.

That time, it wasn't a nasty trick, or even dubious in origin. It was a simple concealment charm — one that Fred and George had purportedly created in their first year at Hogwarts. Fred had been patient in the way he only ever was with Ginny as he taught her how to cast it, and the next year, he had found a way to make the charm permanent. As long as she was under her bed, their mum wouldn't be able to find her. In fact, she wouldn't be able to even think of attempting to find her.

Praying that the charm was still intact, Ginny slid under her bed. It was a tighter fit, now that she was grown, but she managed. As soon as the sounds of the house faded away, she breathed a sigh of relief. All she could hear was her heart beating, and breathing — breathing?

Her wand was in her hand before she had even moved her head, although who knew what she could do with it; her arm was pinned to her side by the lack of space. When she turned her head, she found another person was lurking under the bed beside her.

"Shite!" Her cheeks flooded red hot as soon as the undignified squeal escaped her. She looked at Harry's twinkling green eyes with no small amount of mortification. "Merlin, Harry, what're you doing under here?"

"Same as you, I suppose," he shrugged, as well as one could shrug while squashed beneath a bed. "It seemed like a good place to hide."

She snorted, and she could practically hear his smile. He reached out and slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it. Ginny let out a shuddering sigh. For the first time in a week, it felt like she could truly breathe — like her lungs could handle a deep breath. Granted, that breath practically choked her on dust and various under-the-bed particles, but still.

Merlin, she had missed Harry.

They lay there in silence, staring up at the well-worn hand-me-down slats of Ginny's old bed and savoring the silence. It felt worlds away from the bustling hubbub of the Burrow.

"God, I don't envy Ron and Hermione," Harry exhaled. "I mean — I'm sure they're happy, and in love, but… I think your mum is going to drive them crazy before their wedding night."

Ginny snorted. "She's going to drive everyone crazy."

Harry huffed out a breath, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. He nudged Ginny with his arm. "You know we're next."

She barked out a startled laugh. "Is _that_ your proposal?"

"What — no!" Harry jumped, smacking his head on the underside of her bed, and knocking his glasses askew. "I mean, I, er — should it be?"

"Merlin, that's hilarious. Are you all right?" It wasn't surprising that he should react so… violently to the prospect of matrimony. But there was a small part of her that had hoped he would… well, she didn't know.

"Er. Yeah. I'm fine." Harry cleared his throat, fixing his glasses. "Er. I don't know about a big wedding."

Ginny was going to get a crick in her neck from turning her head to look at him. Under the bed wasn't the most comfortable place to have a conversation with your significant other - especially such a significant conversation. Although, it would be quite the story if he _did_ propose here.

"We should elope," she grinned.

Harry was silent for a beat too long before he replied. "Should we?"

She had been joking, truly and sincerely joking, keeping up with the banter. But all of a sudden, Harry wasn't. He was looking at her with his solemn, pickled toad green eyes, his head tilted to the side. It was in the same position that was going to result in painful necks for the both of them.

"I mean…" Ginny swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. "We're both hiding under the bed. It seems as though neither of us like a big to-do."

"I suppose you're right. I dunno… it's all too much sometimes, you know? I grew up — well. Let's just say I wasn't surrounded by people every day."

"It's all right," Ginny sighed. "I was surrounded by people twenty-four-seven, and look, we're both under the bed."

Harry chuckled. "That we are. Would it be easier, do you think, to endure your mum's wedding planning, or to brave her disappointment if we skipped all the fuss?"

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny groaned. "My mum's been planning my wedding since I was a baby. Her only girl, see. I'm going to have a monstrously poofy dress and everything."

"I'd love to see that," Harry said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. There was a moment of silence. Ginny felt like a heavy weight had been simultaneously taken off and set upon her shoulders. "We're not going to elope, are we."

"We're not." Ginny smiled, squeezing his hand. "I promised my dad when I was five that he could walk me down the aisle."

"Unbreakable Vow?"

"Ha! Almost," she snorted. "Speaking of my dad... people might be wondering where we are."

"Hmm. You're right."

Ginny slid to the side, carefully inching out from under the bed without getting caught on anything. "I always am."

Standing up, she brushed off her robes, double-checking that her wand was still in her pocket. Harry still hadn't made a move to join her by the time she was done checking herself over.

She bent over, peeking at him under the bed. His face was scrunched up in that adorably worried scowl he wore whenever he was thinking very hard. "Coming?"

"Huh? Yes," he said, jumping slightly. "Yes. Coming." He edged out from under the bed.

Ginny turned away, heading for the door. The room was small enough that they couldn't both comfortably stand right next to her bed, and they had to be getting back to the family anyway. It was nice that they had this moment. And it was too bad that they had to head back into the fray so quickly.

"Wait — Gin."

She stopped at the door, looking back at Harry. He was crouched on the floor, hair tousled in her favorite way.

"Gin. Are we engaged?"

"You haven't asked me." She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a grin, turning back to the door.

That was all, she thought. Ron had run from marriage for as long as possible, according to Hermione. According to Angelina, she had to be the one to propose to George. Ginny's brothers had been the standard by which she understood all men for so long, and she was joking - she was _mostly_ joking about marriage. She didn't _really_ want to chase Harry away.

Harry was on one knee when she turned around.

"What — what are you doing?"

The look in his eyes knocked the breath right out of her. She thought for a moment that he might just be in the middle of getting up from the floor, but he wasn't moving any further than the knee he was on.

"Would you say yes?" he asked.

Ginny took a few hesitant steps towards him, away from the door. "I… of course! What else could I say?" she responded helplessly. She couldn't fathom herself saying no.

Harry stood up, a little less fluidly than he might have liked, bumping his knee on the side of her bed and her old dresser in quick succession.

"Well. Excellent," he said, flushing red. His eyes were bright as stars. "Shall we go downstairs, then?"

As he walked past her, he caught her hand in his, pulling her to the door. Ginny felt like a whirlwind had been set loose in her stomach, turning her world upside down.

"Wait — Harry!"

He let her drag him back into the room before he turned the tables on her, tugging her in until she was totally wrapped up in him. There was a tingling, fizzing feeling in her stomach when she met his eyes; a feeling deep in her gut that said _yes, this is the man you're going to spend the rest of your life with._

"Are – are we engaged?"

She absolutely meant to tease, meant to weave in a mocking lilt to her voice that hearkened back to his question not five minutes ago. It didn't work – it couldn't, not so close to Harry, not with a subject so important. Her question tumbled out breathless, and completely sincere.

Harry's arm tightened around her waist, his fingers splayed on her back, and he kissed her palm with a manner that bordered on reverence. For a moment, they two were suspended in time, in a bubble meant for two that no others could pierce.

Then he grinned, that mischievous, boyish, _Harry_ grin that made Ginny's breath catch in her throat.

"As soon as we get a ring."


End file.
